


Steady Hands

by lionhead



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 19:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionhead/pseuds/lionhead
Summary: Bandit's back from his undercover stint and decides it's time to get rid of the beard. Glaz offers his company and a helping hand.





	Steady Hands

**Author's Note:**

> May or may not have been inspired by the new Bandit elite (okay, it was definitely inspired by the new Bandit elite).

Bandit stood before his bathroom mirror. The light was dim but he was glad for it. He ran his hand over the bushy mass of hair on his chin, buried his fingers into it to scratch close to his skin. His eyes ran over the tattoo work along his arms, across his chest, down his abdomen. The Bandit from four years ago would not recognize the Bandit from today. The Bandit from today was lucky to even be standing in front of this mirror right now.

He was grateful that his fellow ops at Rainbow gave him a boisterous welcome home party. He was less grateful that it was over now - even the hardest of partiers had clapped him on the back and told him they should call it a night since the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Bandit didn’t want to call it a night, though. Amidst all the others, he didn’t have to think about what he was supposed to do now, how he would reintegrate himself back into the daily routine. Four years was a long time to be away. The team would have their own ways of doing things; it was like joining Rainbow for the first time all over again.

Bandit supposed the first thing he could do was get rid of the beard. Lord knows the other GSG9 members roasted him enough over the course of the entire night about it, he wasn’t keen on being subjected to another day of that. He plugged in his electric razor and clicked it on, leaning his head back slightly as he brought it up to his neck, gently shaving away at the bulk of it. It wasn’t clean, but he would take care of that after.

He almost didn’t hear Glaz approach the doorway over the noise of the razor, but he spotted him in the mirror. They made eye contact through the reflection, but the Russian didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Bandit to finish.

“Still the strong, silent type, hm?” Bandit said after turning off the razor. “Almost didn’t hear you come in. Not a good idea to sneak up on a man just coming back from a dangerous undercover mission. Might’a knifed ya.” The half smirk Bandit flashed at Glaz betrayed that he hadn’t really taken him for a threat.

Glaz rolled his body away from the doorframe and made his way over to the sink next to Bandit. “That is assuming your skills are not so rusty that you’d be able to get the upper hand on me,” Glaz teased.

“I’m not so sure my skills with a knife were ever honed enough to get the upper hand on you, or any of your Spetsnaz brothers,” Bandit answered, then changed the subject, “What brings you this way? Can’t imagine it’s to keep the party going.” He shimmied his shoulders in something that resembled an awkward dance, which was enough to coax a smile and an exasperated chuckle from Glaz.

“No. No, it is not,” Glaz paused for a moment, thinking about how he wanted to put this, “You didn’t seem particularly comfortable with the idea of parting from the festivities, so in the off chance you didn’t go right to bed, I figured I would stop by to extend an offer of company if you want it.”

Bandit inwardly cursed the sniper’s perceptive nature but brushed it off nonetheless, “Yeah, sure, I’m just… shaving, so… if you wanna stick around. Can’t imagine it’s too riveting for you, but…” He cleared his throat, shrugged, shifted on his feet.

Glaz’s keen eyes narrowed in on a dish of shaving cream and a straight razor resting on the back of the sink. He dampened a hand cloth with hot water, slung it over his wrist, then picked up the dish, brush, and razor. Then he started for the door with a nod of his head and a simple, “Come with me, then.”

Bandit remained standing in the bathroom for several seconds, confused, staring after the other man as he disappeared through the door. He then shook his head and followed after Glaz, beginning to protest, “What are you doing? The sink is back.. here…”

Glaz was already situating himself cross-legged at the head of the bed, the little dish placed carefully on the comforter beside him. One arm was held out, bent at the elbow, the cloth still draped over his forearm. He looked like a very casual butler, and his eyes looked pointedly at Bandit.

With a pat on his lap, he once against beckoned the German over, “Come here. Rest your head.”

“Timur… You really don’t have to do this?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself, but part of him was incredibly curious about what was happening here. His feet were moving him toward the bed, despite the words coming out of his mouth. He even found himself easing down onto the bed, sitting there at the edge, wary eyes focused on Glaz, who looked very sure of himself in this moment.

“Just lean back, rest your head on my lap. It’s easier to control the razor when you’re reclined, but we don’t have a proper chair for that,” Glaz explained, patting his thigh once again. “It’s fine, really.”

Bandit grunted and relented, leaning back on the bed. His legs hung over the end of the mattress, and he gingerly placed his head down. He was tense, though, and didn’t quite let his head relax, hovering millimeters over the fold of Glaz’s calves.

It was hard to not let his muscles loosen when Glaz placed the cloth over Bandit’s lower face. It wasn’t quite as hot as it likely was initially, but it was still warm. And it covered the flush that rose into Bandit’s cheeks when Glaz smiled down at him, looking pleased that Bandit had more or less agreed to let him do this.

Bandit's eyes closed. It was also hard to not think about how truly nice this felt. There weren't many opportunities to be doted upon while undercover in a biker gang, and he didn't quite realize how starved he had grown for this kind of attention. It's not even that he thought Glaz had underlying motives. For all intents and purposes, it seemed that it was solely a kind gesture from the Russian.

Bandit finally let himself sink into both the mattress and Glaz’s lap.

Glaz removed the cloth from Bandit’s face, then folded it over his own knee. Picking up the brush and the dish, he lathered the shaving cream and began to paint it over Bandit’s cheeks, along the line of his jaw, and finally down to his throat. Bandit felt like a canvas for one of Glaz’s art pieces, and he had a front row seat to the artist in his element. Glaz had a unique expression as he worked; eyes focused and pensive, his lips slightly parted, tongue peeking out now and again...

Bandit had to break the silence.

“Paint on me like one of your-” He was cut off by the brush being plopped down over his mouth, the bitter taste of soap on his tongue.

“I am about to have a razor to your neck, so I would reconsider finishing that sentence,” Glaz murmured, his voice low and quiet. He leaned in a bit to ensure Bandit heard him, those sharp eyes catching Bandit’s own gaze. Maybe he had meant for it to sound intimidating, but to Bandit, right now, in the position he was in, the only effect it had was lighting his body on fire. Bandit nodded, swallowing the rest of his joke, effectively subdued.

Glaz parted the razor open, and with one hand resting near the temple of Bandit’s head to steady him, he set to work with the other. He brought the blade to the top edge of Bandit’s cheek and with a masterfully steady hand, dragged it along his skin in short, practiced strokes. Glaz remained silent while he worked, and Bandit didn’t dare utter another word.

When Glaz moved the blade downward toward Bandit’s chin, the hand on his head followed after. Two fingers braced around his ear, Glaz’s thumb coming dangerously close to the corner of Bandit’s mouth. It would have been so easy to just part his lips, wrap them around the digit, drag his tongue across it…

Glaz’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “If you could bring your chin up?” It sounded like a suggestion, but that steadying hand was already gently coaxing his head back, deeper into the gap between Glaz’s thighs. The Russian leaned forward again, lower abdomen pressed against Bandit’s forehead, to get a proper angle as he dragged the blade across the skin of his neck. Bandit’s whole body felt like it was vibrating, he hardly realized he was holding his breath. After what simultaneously felt like both forever and an instant, Glaz leaned back, an accomplished smile on his face.

Bandit let out the breath he had been holding, his head swimming. He looked up at the man he had just let shave him - very intimately, might he add. He watched while Glaz carefully set aside his tools. He should sit up, there was no reason for him to keep his head nestled in the sniper’s lap, but damn, if he didn’t want to stay here for just another moment; an excuse to continue gazing up at Glaz.

“All done-” Glaz began. He was cut off by Bandit’s arms reaching up, hands snaking their way behind his neck, fingers curling into his hair as he was pulled back down. Bandit leaned up to meet him halfway, their lips meeting in an upside down kiss. It was soft, and awkward, and tentative. Bandit’s grip on Glaz was light - in case he wanted to pull away - but the fingers buried into his hair spoke volumes that he hoped he didn’t.

Glaz didn’t pull away. He brought his hands up to cup Bandit’s face, still sticky from the residue of the shaving cream. He kissed back, less softly than it began, less tentatively. When he did break away, he didn’t sit back completely, just enough to meet Bandit’s eyes with his own. “I think there may be better positions to kiss in,” he teased.

Bandit jumped at the invitation, scrambling up to clamber onto Glaz’s lap and straddle him. He entwined his arms around Glaz’s neck again, going in for a deeper, much more enthusiastic kiss than their first. He let out a pleased little growl when the Russian firmly grasped at Bandit’s hips, tugging him closer.

Bandit trailed kisses along Glaz’s jaw, nuzzling up to his ear to whisper, lowering his voice to a rumbling purr as he tempted him, “Stay for the rest of the morning.”

“Oh, I’m not planning to go anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> You'll have to use your imagination beyond the end, bc I am big chicken. Maybe one day I'll add on to it. ;)


End file.
